


Episode 43: Down to the Wire

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [43]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "Ra ven'coat!"Stadium chants during a life or death situation? Must be a Mandalorian thing.
Series: Clan Meso'a [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 43: Down to the Wire

A leap, maybe a bound? No, those aren’t the proper words to describe a pouncing Jiiya. It’s more like a eight ton rocket of fur with sharp claws and large teeth. That might suffice. Not that Cara was watching, because the moment it rocked backwards she let out an “eep!” and buried her face in Jecho’s shoulder. Her heart leapt into her throat and began beating so fast she felt her cheeks grow numb. Had she been watching, she might have lost her lunch and then some.  
The Jiiya kicked up clouds of sand as a means of disorienting the initiate. For a moment, it seemed like its tactic worked as she’d staggered back within inches of the barrier shields. It continued to pound and swipe at the ground, covering her in the sand and pebbles until she managed to raise her shield and advance on it. The beast snorted and raised its shoulders before it batted the shield away as if it were no more than a flimsy pieces of paper. She dropped to the ground, narrowly missing a tusk to the face. Using its height to her advantage, she launched herself forward on all fours until she was beneath its chest. Jiiya roared audibly and leapt backward, reared on its hind legs, and tried to swipe at the initiate clinging to the sack around its neck. She lost her grip and plummeted to the ground just as the Jiiya landed, its inner claw catching her ear and taking the top tip of it off. She rolled away, one hand pressed tightly against it to stem the bleeding and the other on her stomach from the sudden air loss, but she had to let go and roll again to avoid another swipe. Now she was up against the south wall, the only thing keeping her from being Jiiya food was its long tusks preventing it from reaching her with its razor sharp incisors. Undeterred, it continued to ram its face against the wall, shaking the stands above it and sending several young children racing up to the top. All she could do was hug the wall and drop to the floor when the tusks angled themselves at her stomach or chest. One hook from them and she was done for. When it reared back to ram the wall again, she dove forward and grabbed for the netting again only to get thrown aside by a quick swipe. Her jumpsuit spared her flank from any puncture wounds, but the tie on her breastplate had come loose. The other three connections were still good, but the one below her left armpit was shredded.  
The Jiiya hunched its shoulders again and slowly stalked between the east shield and the initiate struggling to her feet. It was growling now, growling low, so low that the initiate began to feel the deep sickness from overexposure to the harmful sounds. She hastily tied the loose ends of her breastplate straps together and pulled the club from her back. Breathing deep and slow was the only cure, the only temporary antidote from the sound-sickness. Up on the wall, Ba’atuk was pacing back and forth. When the Jiiya was ramming its tusks into the south wall, she’d whistled to the guards on that side to stand ready to fire should the Jiiya climb the wall. Nothing lethal, just a deterrent and an opportunity for Ba’atuk to get into its line of sight and stop it from harming anyone but-potentially-the initiate. Low mortality is optimal, she told herself, but if I can’t intervene then I can’t intervene. At the moment, the young girl was handling herself fine. The issue was the Jiiya. He’s almost too old for this, she thought, mentally measuring the height of his mohawk, he’ll have to be returned to the coast soon. Her thoughts were interrupted by the initiate being thrown to her side of the arena. She held up her fist and six warriors rushed to the wall and trained their rifles at the Jiiya. It only had eyes for the initiate, so Ba’atuk was certain-and thankful-that they’d catch it by surprise. She took a mental note of the initiate fixing her breastplate and pulling out her club. It's now or never, kex’ika, she thought. It’s never good to spend too much time fighting a Jiiya. They’re intelligent enough to understand when its prey are developing patterns. If she were to dive again, she’d be scooped up in its jaws. Already it was lowering its front and angling its head to the side, jaws open and letting out a gurgling growl. It flicked its tongue twice and bared its teeth, hissing with its eyes wider than they had been earlier as if daring the initiate to dive beneath it again. But she’s a smart one, Jiiya, Ba’atuk smiled to herself. Behind her, the initiate’s father and younger brother were on the edges of the seats, fists balled and shouting advice to their kin below. She couldn’t hear them, but that didn’t matter. She was focused, determined; she was staring back at the Jiiya with her club in one hand and the other on the wall, ready to strike.  
“Shhee shouhld hhssstrikeh nhow,” commented Meiri behind Koucitesh and her husband to her sister.  
The other Trandoshan shorted and shook her head, “Shhee ihs hhhssplotthing sssihstter.”  
“Give her a moment,” chuckled Koucitesh, “You can’t rush these things.”  
“One false move and she’s done for,” said her husband, retying his headgear and resting his arm across her shoulders, “So far so good, though.”  
“You have doubts, riduur?”  
He shook his head, “None, but this Jiiya is far too old for this.”  
“Noted,” hissed Ba’atuk over her shoulder, “but there’s nothing to be done now but switch him out for the reserve.”  
“Shhheees nho behtter,” said Meiri.  
“She’s all we’ve got left,” Ba’atuk reminded her curtly, stamping the wall with her staff, “If Palouta would-”  
Ba’atuk staggered sideways, nearly falling from the wall had Kunz not caught her from behind and leaned her back upright.  
“Kad above!” she swore, running along the wall towards the eastern end of the arena to get a better look at the fight.  
The Jiiya had slammed its entire body against the wall trying to get at the initiate, but she’d darted under it toward the opposite wall and was waving her club in the air tauntingly.  
“Not good,” said the Chagrian to his husband.  
“Not good?” asked Cara, opening one eye to look at him. She’d missed most of the action up until this point, having been glued to Jecho’s shoulder, but the rattling arena piqued some deep curiosity she was trying to suppress. It was the same curiosity that tempted her to watch those horror holos with Dovin even though they gave her nightmares. At the moment, it wanted to see just how bad things had gotten and she instantly regretted giving in. The Jiiya slammed it’s flank into the arena wall the moment she opened her eyes. Only three rows back from the edge, she felt as though her soul momentarily left her body as the mountain of fur came far too close for comfort. She couldn’t hear very well still, but the heat of the sun plus her own body heat had opened up gaps in the wax. The low growling made her bones hurt, made her stomach do flips; the smell that had been hitting her since they’d arrived-the smell of sweat, sweet foods, and now a sweating Jiiya-sucker punched her.  
“What’s not good?” she said just before her lunch tried to escape. She swallowed hard and shivered.  
“Jiiya isn’t happy,” said the human, “He doesn’t like being fooled.”  
“He looks a bit too old,” observed Jecho, “Look at his tusks. They’re far too long for this. He’s almost an adult.”  
Both the human and Chagrian nodded.  
“How old is he?” asked Cara, still clutching Jecho and her lunch.  
She shrugged, “Hard to tell but I would guess close to four or five. They’re full grown at six.”  
“And those that get taller only do so with proper food and space to roam,” added the human, “Much like people. Good nutrition is important.”  
“Not..people nutrition, right? They don’t...eat people?”  
The Chagrian patted her shoulder, “Not normally.” 

The initiate thrust her club at the Jiiya and shouted something, then lunged forward a step. The beast roared and hissed, raised its front right paw and swiped at her. She swung her club at the oncoming paw and brought it down on the rough pad as it passed. The Jiiya yowled and spit before rushing her, tusks aiming for her chest. She dropped, hoping it wouldn’t have enough time to correct for her movement and laid prone as its tusks collided with the wall. The net swung forward just above her but still out of reach. When it reared back to see her, she threw herself forward and into a hasty tumble to remain beneath its chest. The Jiiya backed up and hissed, shoulders raised as it tried to see her, but she was quick, riding the adrenaline high of seeing the end goal. The net was a foot above her and she was running out of arena. If it reared up again, it might topple over the side onto her Alor and be stunned by the guards. Should that happen, she would have to do this over again with a different Jiiya. She had to act fast. The Jiiya’s rear was dangerously close to the other wall, but if it hit the wall she could jump for the net while it was startled by the impact. It was worth a shot and too late to turn back now, the Jiiya was far too riled up to not attack her if it got the chance.  
“She’s making another run!” Jecho let go of Cara and stood, “Ra ven’coat, kex’ika!” she shouted. (You will prevail!)  
“Ra ven’coat!” shouted another a few rows back.  
Koucitesh turned to see who’d shouted and caught Cara’s eye. She smiled.  
“Ra ven’coat!” she echoed with a clap.  
Koucitesh’s husband snorted and crossed his arms. “Ra ven’coat, kex’ika. Ra ven’coat.”  
“Rah vhen cohat!” shouted Barsurl and Meiri.  
“Ra ven’coat!” cheered a woman to Meiri’s right.  
The chanting spread from end to end of the arena. Warriors and children alike were on their feet, stamping and clapping and shouting with all their might. Ba’atuk’s ear twitched with annoyance. She knew there was no stopping the crowd once they got started, but it always made her job harder. The wall was shaking beneath her and it took all of her dexterity to remain fixed where she was. Jiiya was similarly perturbed. Still backing up against the wall, it was wincing and hissing each time the crowd stomped and clapped. There was no penalty against the initiate should the crowd distract the Jiiya, but Ba’atuk always discouraged loud displays of camaraderie when the Jiiya are on the field.  
“Ra ven’coat! Ra ven’coat!”  
Five seconds till impact.  
“Ra ven’coat! Ra ven’coat!”  
Two seconds.  
“Ra ven’coat! Ra ven’coat!”  
Jiiya roared over its shoulder, it’s rear slamming against the wall and sending another group of children running for the upper levels. Ba’atuk hopped out of the way of its tail flicking upwards and almost hooking her under the chin. She cursed and staggered away as the Jiiya turned even more and snapped at the air.  
“Ke serim!” she shouted, raising her fist.  
The six guards, not counting Kunz, raised their rifles and took aim. Barsulr and Meiri charged their electrostaves and raised them, but Koucitesh and her husband remained where they were. The beast was eye level with them, but neither saw this as a cause for alarm. Its great yellow eyes scanned the crowd with it’s mouth wide open. Should it swing its head all the way around, should it turn, its tusks would take out Ba’atuk who was only a few feet away. She braced herself and opened her fist. The command was seconds from leaving her mouth when the Jiiya jerked its head around and let out a hoarse, percussive growl that sent a shockwave of discomfort around the arena. It brought its head back around and charged away from the wall towards the other side. Ba’atuk ran to the other end of the wall in time to see the initiate swing the net in the air and smack the Jiiya in the face.  
“Til!” she shouted (Ground!).  
The warriors on both sides aimed their rifles down at the ground and unloaded. The Jiiya lept back in frustration, hissing and spitting as bright blue bolts erupted around it. The north team drove the creature back to the south as the initiate took her knife and cut open the net holding her helmet. Jiiya continued to growl and swipe at the air, but the arena quickly filled with a cloud of dust too dense for even the Jiiya to see through.  
“Ke’mot!”  
The firing stopped abruptly as did whatever chanting still echoed around the arena. Jiiya huffed and panted, teeth still bared at the warriors opposite it. Ba’atuk was in a similar state, panting slightly. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and walked the length of the wall so she stood on the Jiiya’s right.  
“Jiiya!” she called.  
It hissed but its eyes focussed on her.  
She put out her hand. It snorted.  
“Jiiya,” she said again, thrusting her hand forward.  
It continued to stare.  
“Jiiya!” she barked.  
It snorted again, but lowered its front paws onto the ground and stretched forward.  
“K’uur,” she cooed, patting its nose. It snorted once more and sniffed her fingers, then it hummed and brought its back legs forward to sit.  
“Was that so hard?”  
It let out a deep throat gurgle.  
“Maybe, huh?” she chuckled, “Fair enough.”


End file.
